I'm new here, so any opinions are welcomed. I'm continuing this story whether I get any reviews or not.

Emily

"And stop coming back!" She screams as she forces me out the door. If some dark cloud decided to hide the moon and all its light tonight, I would have tripped over the two steps leading to the front door and face planted right in the middle of the narrow, ice-covered path. Luckily for me, the moon and its army of stars are in my defense tonight.

She slams the door shut before I can reply to her command. I stare at the door after her for a few seconds with a look I'm sure must tell a story about how much I resent that woman. I shove my hands in the pockets of my old, beaten leather jacket and look up. I sigh, and watch my breath slowly makes its way up, towards the night sky. At least the stars seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"Emily!" Someone hisses at me from above. I look back at my old house to see James, my little brother, whispering at me from his bedroom window on the second floor, a contrite expression taking over his features. I only shrug.

"I'll be okay," I whisper back, "I always am. Just call me, yeah?"

He nods before closing the curtain. The lights in the room go out and I start making my way back to my flat. I hate my mother, I genuinely hate her. Jenna Fitch does not fucking rest. She kicked me out two years ago when I confessed I was gay; I had just graduated high school. She does not let me see my little brother, and if Katie, my twin, had not moved out as soon as she graduated too, I would not be allowed to see her either. Jenna's always on the look out to make sure I'm not contaminating James with my 'bad influence.' She thinks she knows her kids, thinks she knows what's best for us. That's just an example of how bloody dense she is. Katie and I know what it's like living with our mother, but we had each other, and we had dad. James has been alone with her for two years and he's still got at least one more before he's finished school. Katie and I are very protective of him. Actually, that's why I was there just a few minutes ago. James needed to talk to me; he's been getting bullied. However, before he had a chance to finish his confession, the bitch interrupted and threw me out. Cunt. Usually if James needs me I'll arrange for us to meet somewhere; I rarely chance coming over to see him, I only do that if it's urgent. Believe me when I tell you I'm going to hunt down those little shitheads and make them regret the day they decided to hurt my little brother.

The walk back to my flat is only a ten minute walk, but after that confrontation with Jenna, I need a break before I have to deal with Cook. He's my flat mate, by the way.

There's this cute little coffee shop on the way back to my flat called 'Courtney's Coffee.' I stop by when I need time to think; it's where I go when the world gets overwhelming, it's my bubble. One of my favorite aspects of this particular coffee shop is that it's open twenty-four-seven. It's convenient for someone who happens to be walking home at eleven O'clock at night in the middle of January. I always get a specific feeling of excitement in my chest when I see those familiar glass doors with the bright red frames.

I step inside and instantly welcome the calming sense of security that surrounds me every time I inhale the delicious smell of fresh coffee and baked goods that emits from this place. It's like wrapping yourself up in your favorite blanket that's come straight from the dryer. It's a temporary feeling, so you enjoy it as much as you can before it's gone.

If you've just walked through the door, the left side of the shop is all large windows looking out on the lonely streets of Bristol. Four square tables with two to four chairs and dark blue table cloths fill the space beside the giant window-wall. The right side of the shop consists of a big white wall with a few red-framed pictures of employees hung up in a perfect row. Four round tables are lined up evenly against the wall and the red and white checkered table cloths match the pictures and doors. One side of the shop intended for the all the teenagers going on dates, while the other intended for the people like me; the outcasts and underdogs searching for an escape. The floor is a light grey carpet that seems to tie everything together, even though it shouldn't. The service counter extends into the middle of the shop a little and always has a friendly face behind it.

"Hi there," The girl behind the counter greets me without taking her eyes off the notepad in her hands. I've seen her here a few times. I've never really talked to her, but her appearance makes her hard to forget; long, slightly curly, dark brown hair and distinct green eyes, like the ocean on a cloudy day.

"Can I get you anything?" She asks, finally looking up at me. As soon as her tired eyes meet mine, her smile morphs. One half of her mouth decisively drops into a straight line while the other half stays smiling. Her eyebrows draw the smallest bit closer together as she raises them slightly. It's making me seriously uncomfortable, specifically because I cannot understand why she's looking at me like that. She must have noticed the dramatic change in atmosphere too because I blinked and the look was replaced by her welcoming smile, just as confident as before. She's waiting for my answer.

"Um, just tea," I clear my throat, "please."

She nods once in response before disappearing behind two small swinging doors behind her. Usually, at this time, this place is deserted except for whoever is working. However, tonight a man I've never seen before has decided to stop by at eleven O'clock to read his newspaper. He's sitting at one of the round tables with the red and white table cloths. When I pass him on my way to my usual seat at the far left of the room, he hardly blinks. You can only imagine my confusion when he approaches me, newspaper tucked neatly under his arm and a holding a to-go cup.

"Here kid," He says in his baritone voice while placing his cup down on my table. He looks like he's in his mid-twenties with short, styled, jet black hair, a stubble beard to match, and blue eyes so vibrant they should not be allowed on his face. He comes off as a little sketchy, but his eyes are too genuine for him to be dangerous. He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a five dollar bill and places it down in front of me. I laugh a dull, humorless ha before sliding it back at him.

"I'm not homeless" I tell him.

He chuckles and sits down in the chair across from me.

"Look," He starts, "eventually, shit gets better, but it takes a bit of effort, yeah? You're going to fuck up a lot in your life kid and the people around you are going to fuck up a lot too. However, there is a trick to overcoming this part of your life and coming out on top. It's simple enough to understand but harder to do I'll grant you. Learning to recognize when you're fucking something up is easy, the difficult part is being brave enough to do something about it." He takes a sip from his to-go cup and continues with his little rant that makes absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever,

"So, you're going to accept that five dollars; buy another mug of tea with it, tip the pretty waitress, whatever you want. All you have to do is grow a pair and things will get better," Standing up, he retrieves his cup and pushes in his chair, "I'm speaking from experience, trust me. I used to sit at the tables with the blue cloths too." He raises his eyebrows and gives me a pointed look. Next thing I know he's out the door, leaving behind nothing but the chime of the little bell, announcing his exit.

What the fuck? I do not remember strapping a sign to my head saying 'I'm homeless.' What is with these people? First the girl at the counter gives me this weird look, and then some random guy feels compelled to give me a life lesson speech. This is not what I come here expecting, I just want my tea and some peace.

Just then the waitress decides to emerge from behind the counter and start walking over to me with a little round cup of hot tea.

"Excuse me Miss," She says, placing down my tea and taking away my hope for some alone time. "I don't mean to pry," She averts her eyes and squirms uncomfortably under my gaze before continuing, "but is there anything I could get you, you know, for your eye?"

Oh yeah, I forgot about that.

Did I mention how bloody cold it is outside? This leather jacket is not doing it for me.

Ok, first thing you need to know is that my mother did not hit me. She slaps me sometimes but she would never leave a black eye. After I brushing off the waitress and finishing my tea, I got out of Courtney's Coffee as quick as I could. Although the warm, calming feeling I get from that place instantly vanished, along with my mood, when I was reminded of the hideous dark purple bruise outlining my left eye, I regret leaving, only because now I'm stuck walking home in this lower than fucking negative eighty-two degrees temperature. I didn't bother covering up my eye before I left to see James. It was pitch black out when I left my flat, no one would have seen me, so I didn't bother. The disaster with Jenna distracted me enough that it totally escaped my mind when I entered the shop. At least it explains the weird look and random speech. That girl- Charlie, I read her name tag when she gave me my tea -her smile, I understand now; pity, she pitied me. The man too, except he assumed I got myself into problems that ended with me earning a black eye. I'm not new to fighting people; I'm actually a fantastic street fighter. I have to be, there's a lot of condescending people out there who happen to think they can treat me like shit. After the horrible experience of having to tolerate Jenna Fitch as a teenager, you think I'm going to let anyone think they can treat me like that again? I don't think so. However, I assure you, this black eye, along with a few scratches and cuts, was not my fault. I didn't go asking for this one, oh no, this was the work of the ever-so-lovely Candice.

Pink Cowardly Candice with no last name, that's all I know. She's got this group of minions that follow her around everywhere, three other nameless girls, and they all look identical. Long, straight, dark brown hair tied up in a high ponytail and these tremendously distracting pink leather jackets that they all wear. A small, golden 'M' is stitched into the back of each one. I assume it's probably the symbol for a gang they represent. The only way I can tell Candice apart from the others is by her hair, it has a ginger tint to it. I only know her name because one of her loyal followers accidentally let it slip once. I'm telling you, I could destroy Candice with the flick of my fingers, but as tough as I am, I can't take on four at once. She's a coward and she knows it. She just watches as the other three obey her every command to pound on me, only joining in when I'm almost unconscious. She'd be dead without them to hide behind.

I always wonder why I never see them around, parading the streets in their 'oh so intimidating' pink jackets. When they started coming after me I would go out every day in search of that annoying brown ponytail with the ginger streaks but regardless of where I went or how many times I went there, they were nowhere to be found. Eventually I gave up and just learned to prepare myself for when they would come. They come after me at a random time every fucking week, and I have no idea when to expect it. It all started around four, maybe five months ago. When she first confronted me, I remember her saying 'Hey, Fitch' to get my attention. She knows me, she knows who I am, and to this day I still have no idea how.

"Hey, Fitch"

I freeze, but not out of fear. They don't scare me like they think they do; they don't scare me at all. I slowly turn around and am met by none other than, you guessed it, Candice. Speak of the devil. Instead of three others there is only one girl with her tonight. However, Candice knows she needs at least two on her side to stand a chance; the others are around here somewhere.

"Candice," I nod and give her my best challenging smile, "Nice night out, don't you reckon?"

"Oh yeah," She takes a few steps towards me, causing me to take a few steps back. "Just dark enough that no one will notice when you suddenly disappear off the streets." She smiles a wicked, fake pity smile, "Oh, but then again, no one would really notice anyway, would they, Hun?"

That's the thing about Candice, she may hide behind her clones but she knows exactly what words to use.

"Fuck off," I warn her, my face hardening.

"Hmmm," she pretends to think, "Not yet."

You'd think it would take more than getting pulled in against my will to notice I was standing right next to a dark, vacant alley crammed between two motels.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" I protest as they drag me deeper into the alley. When we stop near the end, the two girls that pulled me in hold my arms behind my back while Candice and her other clone slowly approach me.

"Oh," Candice begins, "Poor little lonely Emily." She punches me hard in the stomach and I lurch forward, letting out an oof sound. "Just wishing mommy would love her," She continues. Reaching under my chin, she lifts my face before punching me in the nose. I taste blood more than feel it. "No daddy to run to and an older sister that doesn't have time for her anymore," Her fist connects with the left side of my face with a crack. "Just a scared little girl, all on her own, pretending not to care," She sticks out her bottom lip, mimicking a pout, before stepping away and laughing a laugh that sounds more like a cackle. The two girls restraining me kick my legs out from under me and let go of my arms, dropping me to the ground. Anyone witnessing this gang beating would think this is the part where they spit on me and walk away. Not a chance. In reality, this is the part where I get the living shit kicked out of me.

And kick the living shit out of me they did.

I curled into my default position as I felt the first boot to my lower back. I tuck my knees up to my chest and put my hands on the back of my neck, crouching into myself. What more can I do? The only strand of dignity I have to hold on to at this point is not screaming. Out of all the times they have come after me I have never cried, pleaded, or begged. I refuse to give them that satisfaction.

Normally when they start kicking me it goes on for at least five minutes. However, tonight, apparently, is not one of those nights. The kicking stops as quickly as it began and I can hear strange grunts and small yells coming from all different directions. Are they fighting each other? No, that cannot be it, they are not that thick. I never risk exposing my face until I know that they are gone. It's not worth it; one good kick is all it takes. However, I never hear the sound of Candice calling off her girls and fleeing a fight either.

"Fuck this! C'mon girls, we're done here!"A voice that is unmistakably Candice yells, followed by, what sounds like, multiple, quick footsteps. Are they actually running away? What? Why?

I cautiously move my arms and lift my head to look around. They really did run away, there is no one in sight. I get to my feet as fast as I can; no need to be vulnerable any longer than necessary. I brush myself off and wipe the blood under my nose away with my index finger. Everything is still, the only thing I can hear is the sound of the melted snow dripping from the rooftops and landing in their own little puddles on the ground. The moon is not providing enough light for me to see far enough down the alley; Candice and her clones could still be here. I start walking tentatively towards one of the walls, if I stay close and if they are really gone, I will be able to navigate my way through the dark, to the other end, and back to the sidewalk. Just as I touch the wall the consuming silence is interrupted by a light blowing sound. It's coming from behind me and it's getting louder and closer each second. I turn around just in time to duck as a black figure lands perfectly, without stumbling, right on top of a dumpster that was behind me. Where the fuck did that come from?!

"What the fuck!?" I voice my confusion.

Whoever it is just remains crouching on top of the dumpster, not moving a muscle or making a sound, and stares back at me. I cannot make out any detail of their appearance, it's too dark. A few seconds go by before whoever just came out of nowhere decides to answer.

"Right," female, that is a female's voice, "Sorry about that, didn't mean to startle you." She said in a flat tone.

She hops off the dumpster and walks into what little light the moon is providing. Tall, she's tall, beats me by about half a head. She's wearing all black, including a ski mask with only two holes for her to see out of. Her whole attire is black; black sweats, a black hoodie, even black gloves. I'm having one weird ass fucking day.

"Oh yeah, fuck, sorry," she sighs and grabs the bottom of her mask and pulls it over her head, "You alright?"

Blue. Blue eyes like ice but not cold. Beautiful. Beautiful blue eyes like ice but not cold. Blond too, she's got peroxide blond hair that extends to about an inch below her shoulders. Her nose is pointy and it suits her and she's got beautiful blue eyes. Fuck sakes Emily, snap out of it.

"Who the fuck are you?" I demand. That's more like it.

"Hmm, good question," she turns and leans against the wall beside me, "Who am I?" She asks, looking at me seriously.

I have no answer to that so I just continue staring at her. Eventually she breaks the silence,

"Sorry I took a while, I had to follow those girls, you know, make sure they didn't come back. How's your eye?" She asks, still just as serious as before.

"Okay, hang on, what!? Who are you? And where the actual fuck did you come from?" This is getting beyond fucking weird.

Her expression changes from serious to slightly amused. She points up and my eyes follow her finger's path.

"Hang on…" I start; she did not actually just jump from the roof, did she? "Are you trying to tell me you just jumped from that roof, twenty feet up, to that dumpster right there?" I pointed towards the now dented dumpster.

"Good job." She says and pats the top of my head. Normally that would piss me off, but I'm too confused to care.

"Why?" I ask.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you chase them off?" Why would she help me? She has never met me.

"Well, you were kind of getting the shit kicked out of you, I thought I would offer some assis-"

"I can take care of myself." I interrupt; I'm not a charity case.

"Fine," She pushes off the wall and makes two steps before I interject again.

"Hang on, you still haven't told me who you are, and what's with the mask?"

Instead of responding she just turns and starts walking backwards towards the end of the alley I was just dragged from. She slips her mask back on as she goes.

"You didn't see me." I barely make out what she says as it's muffled out from behind her mask.

"What?" I say for the umpteenth time. "What the hell? Who are you!?" I yell.

She slips into the darkness so stealthily it looks like she just teleported. I run towards her, to stop her, but when I reach the area she was just standing in no longer than sixty seconds ago, she's gone. I scan the area numerous times, where did she go? I search my way back to the street I was abducted from half an hour ago. She's vanished. I have no other option but to go home. As I take my first step in the direction of my flat, I step on something hard enough that I noticed stepping on it. I move my foot to reveal a small, delicate, silver necklace, sprawled out on the cement. I pick it up and look at it more closely. Centered in the thin, silver chain is a large, shiny, dark grey ring. Is this hers? I have no clue, but I pocket it anyway before finally heading home.

As I unlock the door to mine and Cook's flat the stench of booze and weed instantly intrudes my nostrils. Fucking Cook. Is it so much to ask for him not to destroy our flat for just one night? I mean, this is Cook's flat, he does pay for it- Although he would not be able to without the help of his sleazy uncle Keith. That man is one impressive drug trafficker and has definitely taught Cook everything he knows. –but you would think he could clean his shit up once in a while. Cook took me in when Jenna disowned me. We went to high school together for a few years, but only really connected when I started having problems with my mum. Cook was there, he was someone I could relate and to turn to. He understood and always sided with me, and that's what I needed. I needed someone to defend me, someone who would fight with me and take my side for a change. When Cook and I became friends, I was not alone anymore, and he did the best he could to make sure I forgot about everything that had to do with Jenna Fitch. It involved a lot of pills, alcohol and sex. Now, we still take pills, drink alcohol, and go to clubs and have competitions to see who can pull first, but it's not about forgetting anymore, we just do it for the fuck of it. I love him like hell for everything he's done for me, do not get me wrong, but the boy cannot clean to save his life.

"Cook!" I call into the seemingly deserted flat. "Cook!" I try again after hearing no answer the first time.

I take off and hang up my jacket, making sure to grab the necklace from the pocket, before going to investigate. Every room is empty, he must be out. I walk into my room, which is actually decently tidy compared to the rest of the flat, and change out of my clothes. Once I'm in a pair of clean underwear and an oversized t-shirt, I make my way to the bathroom. I cringe at the sight of myself in the mirror; sunken eyes, smeared make-up, dried blood, bruises and cuts. I sigh before turning the tap to warm and splashing my face with water. After clearing my face of make-up and dried up blood, I just look bruised and tired. I slump back to my room with the necklace in my hand, close my door, flick the light off and crash onto my bed. I pull my blankets up and place the necklace on my bedside table. I'll look at it better tomorrow. Maybe it did belong to the mysterious blond with the beautiful blue eyes. Who was she?

If anyone who's interested in this story would like me to add music for future chapters, just let me know. Next chapter might not be up for a while, but who knows?

~Shae.